Death Of An Action Hero
by Mimi The Muse
Summary: What ever happened to a little rat named Steve McQueen?


Title: Death of an Action Hero

Author: Mary Ann Summers

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Not really

Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm just playing with them. Don't sue me.

Summary: What ever happened to a little rat named Steve McQueen?

(Author's Note: Much thanks to Autumn, Kit and Phinnia for an interesting discussion on what to do with a dead rat.)

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Lisa Cuddy clicked down the hallway in her high heels, heading for the diagnostics department. In her hand was another case file to deliver to Dr. House and his team. Hopefully he would behave himself on this case, but this was House they were talking about here and it was more likely she'd see a flying pig outside her office window. Peering into his office she found it empty and slipped inside to leave the file. He was probably taking lunch. A long lunch. When there wasn't a case, a long lunch was the only kind House would take.

Cuddy set the folder on House's desk, trying not to brush up against the cage of his pet rat. Recently he'd taken to bringing it to work with him and letting Steve McQueen, named after the action hero, spend his days relaxing and watching the diagnostic department do it's stuff. She didn't consider herself overly squeamish, but she couldn't get past the scaly tail. It was cute enough elsewise and would even come up to the cage to greet visitors, so she decided to let the thing stay there.

She glanced over at the cage and noticed that this time little Steve hadn't come up to greet her. In fact, he wasn't moving at all. Her eyes widened a little as she took a step closer and found the rat laying down on his side, perfectly still. House wasn't the sentimental type, but it was obvious he was found of this pet. And now it appeared that it was dead. For a moment she was frozen on the spot, not sure what to do. And then she was leaving the office as briskly as possible.

***

Wilson was sitting at his desk working on paperwork when Cuddy burst into his office without a single knock on the door. He looked up at her, a little surprised since it usually was House that didn't believe in knocking.

"We have a problem." She announced, slightly out of breath.

"A House problem, I'm guessing?" He set down his pen. Of all the times Cuddy had shown up at his office out of sorts, there had only been one time it hadn't been caused by House. It seemed that he'd become the House Whisperer over the years, and the House's fellows would come to Wilson if they needed their boss wrangled.

"Is there any other kind?" Cuddy sighed. "Steve McQueen is dead."

"Well...." Wilson gave Cuddy a look like she'd spourted an extra head. "I know House is fond of his movies, but I don't think he'll take it that poorly."

"No, not the action star!" Cuddy exclaimed in frusteration. "That rat on House's desk!"

"He's dead?" Wilson's face went from panic to hesitation. "Are you sure it's dead?"

"What am I supposed to do, take a pulse?" She threw her hands into the air. "Rats generally don't sleep laying on their sides!"

"Okay...this is bad." He sighed in return, running his hand over his hair. "Who's going to tell him?"

"He's pretty fond of that rat." Wilson picked up his pen and began to fiddle with it restlessly. House wasn't the sentimental type, but he did have a softer side and that included a fondness for a certain random lab rat he'd adopted after an experiment. No tears would be shed over little Steve's death, but he knew that House's eyes would darken and there would be a few moments of not often seen vulnerability on his face. He hated to see him like that.

"Either you tell him, or I will." Cuddy frowned, not looking forward to the task but knowing that she would probably be stuck with it.

"Tell me what?" House asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. He had the look on his face that he realized he'd walked into the middle of something interesting and was starting to break it down, analyzing it from all angles. The truth would not elude him for long, if they were stupid enough to try to lie to him.

"House...." Cuddy hesitated, glancing to Wilson for support and found his eyes were on his desk blotter. Alot ofhelp he was! She went forward carefully, trying to lower the axe as gently as possible. "When I left a file on your desk...I noticed that your rat had...passed on."

"He's dead?" House's eyes darkened and the expression on his face sobered. "Well, at least he avoided taxes."

And with that cryptic statement, he hobbled out of the office.

***

Steve McQueen's death had come on a Friday afternoon, so Cuddy didn't see House again until Monday morning. She had almost forgotten the rat's death until she came into his office and saw the empty space where the cage had once resided on the desk top. Her eyes went to House to look for any signs of distress, though she worried about someone who would get too distressed over a rat, even a pet rat, and she found him glancing back at her with a calm but puzzled look on his face.

"Fifty year old woman, no history of chronic illness begins to..." Cuddy's voice trailed off and the file she had been about to hand him stopped in mid-air as she spotted an odd art piece behind House's desk. It looked like a small skeleton. A mammal with a long tail, each vertabrae stark and white in an almost beautiful way. If she didn't know better she would've thought it looked like a skeleton of a....

"You didn't?" She said in amazement. House looked at her, then followed her eyes behind him and to the tiny skeleton. "I think Steve would be happy to know his body was donated to science, don't you?"

She could only stare at him in disbelief, and a pleased smirk crossed his face, looking like the cat that had ate the canary. He loved the way she was looking at him as if evaulating his sanity. It made the hundred bucks he'd paid a med student to do the deed worthwhile. Even after his death, Steve McQueen knew how to make him smile.


End file.
